


You Say, "Darling, Am I a Chore?"

by chocobee



Series: Promnis Week 2019 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Promnis Week, Promnis Week 2019, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobee/pseuds/chocobee
Summary: In which Prompto is a reckless mess, and Ignis can't stand to lose him.Day 3:Bed sharing|One of them shows up to the other's apartment injured during the World of Ruin|Prompto's actually very smart and every time he shows it off Ignis wants to bang him





	You Say, "Darling, Am I a Chore?"

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of Promnis Week! I'm not the proudest of this one, because I don't feel like I really achieved what I was going for. I've seen a lot of World of Ruin fics where Prompto isn't coping well with everything going on, and gets a bit reckless. I kind of wanted to touch on that because I think it's pretty interesting given his character, but I don't think it really worked out. I feel like the characterizations are a bit off, too, so. Hope you enjoy the attempt, though!
> 
> Title from Giants by Bear Hands.

Ignis is putting together a meager dinner for himself when there’s a weak knock on his door. He frowns. There’s no one he’s expecting today, and anyone with any reason to drop by his apartment would know to call before just showing up.

Nevertheless, he slowly makes his way to the door and swings it open.

“Hi, Iggy,” comes Prompto’s voice. It sounds strained. Subdued.

“Prompto,” Ignis says, relieved and worried all at the same time. Being blind has taught him to pay attention to the way people talk, and the way Prompto’s talking means there’s something wrong. “What happened?”

“‘S not that bad,” Prompto says, though Ignis isn’t quite sure whether to believe him or not. “Just a couple of stitches, I think.”

Ignis swallows. Tries to keep his worry and anger from showing as he says, “Everything is under the bathroom sink.” It can wait, he thinks. The long lecture he’s had planned for Prompto since he disappeared a month ago can wait until he’s at least patched himself up.

“Thanks,” Prompto says quietly, moves past Ignis carefully when the man steps aside to let him in. Ignis hears the bathroom door click shut behind him. It’s one of those times where he catches himself wishing he still had his sight, so he could see how badly Prompto was injured, and so he could tend to his wounds himself and maybe drill into his head that he has people who care about him, people who don’t want to see him hurting.

It’s clear that Prompto wants some privacy, though, so Ignis busies himself with finishing dinner. He puts together an extra portion for Prompto, because he knows him, and he likely hasn’t been eating much since Ignis has last seen him. The tiny studio apartment is quiet save for the sound of running water and occasional clatters and pained hisses muffled through the bathroom door.

Ignis is just setting both plates down on the table when the door opens again. Prompto approaches slowly, cautiously. “It’s okay, Iggy, I’m not really hungry,” he says.

“Sit down and eat,” Ignis tells him, leaving no room for argument. He hears one of the chairs scrape across the floor and creak as Prompto sits.

They eat in tense silence for a few minutes. Eventually Prompto says, “Sorry to drop in on you like this. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You know there’s always a place for you here, no matter what. At Gladio’s as well,” Ignis says. He doesn’t know what else to do to make Prompto believe it, to make him stop running off on his own and throwing himself headlong into danger.

“I know,” Prompto says softly.

Now is as good a time as ever to address the elephant in the room. “Where have you been?” Ignis asks, nearly demands, after a brief pause.

He hears Prompto take a deep breath. “Nowhere specific,” he says. “Wherever people needed me.”

_ I needed you here,  _ Ignis wants to say, but what comes out is, “You can’t just-  _ leave  _ and not tell anyone, Prompto!”

“I can take care of myself,” Prompto defends immediately. 

Ignis sighs, tries to calm himself. “You know that’s not what I’m saying. You’re more than capable. I’m saying… how would we have known if something happened?”

Ignis hears Prompto’s chair creak again as the blond deflates, the fight leaving him before an argument can really start. “I would call,” he says quietly, a little defeated. “If something happened, I’d call you.”

“And what if you couldn’t?” Ignis counters. “What if you lost your phone, or it broke, or had no battery, or you-” he cuts himself off, not daring to finish the sentence, as if uttering the words  _ What if you were dead?  _ will somehow make them true.

Prompto doesn’t have anything to say to that. Ignis hears him put his fork down on his plate.

After a tense moment, Ignis says, “You should get some rest.” Perhaps they ought to discuss this tomorrow. Prompto’s probably tired and in pain, because Ignis knows he hadn’t bothered to take any painkillers, only used what was absolutely necessary from Ignis small stash of medical supplies. Ignis himself is a little strung out, but he reasons that finding the person you’ve been secretly in love with for the past couple of years injured on your doorstep after disappearing for a month will do that to you. “I’ll get you some clothes and you can take the bed.”

“I’m not taking your bed, Iggy,” Prompto protests. “I’ll sleep on the floor, it’s fine.”   


Ignis is already up, navigating to the dresser and rummaging through the drawers. “Nonsense. You’re injured.”

Prompto hesitates for a moment. “There’s room for both of us if we squeeze.” It’s certainly not the first time they’ve shared such a small bed. Hell, both of them had shared smaller ones with Gladio.

“Alright,” Ignis says. He hands him the spare pair of pajamas that Prompto keeps tucked away in the top drawer. Ignis changes into his own pajamas as well, and leaves their dinner plates on the table to clean up in the morning.

Ignis lets Prompto takes the inside of the bed, between him and the wall. Some irrational part of him is afraid Prompto is going to slip away again during the night, and then he’ll have to suffer through another month of radio-silence and endless anxiety.

The size of the bed has them both laying on their sides - Prompto on the side that isn’t injured - and facing each other. Ignis can feel Prompto’s soft puffs of breath on his neck. They’re silent for a long time.

There’s a bigger picture here, Ignis knows. Prompto had never told any of them the full extent of what happened to him between Noct pushing him off the train and them finding him all trussed up in Zegnautus Keep. He’d mentioned bits and pieces here and there, enough to let on that nearly every second he’d endured without them was a living hell. Ignis and Gladio - and Noct, on that night, before he’d gotten swallowed by the Crystal the next morning - weren’t the only one’s who’d tried to convince Prompto to just talk about it rather than bottle everything up. But no matter what anyone said, Prompto would shake his head with a little self-deprecating smile and insist he was fine, and that there was bigger things to worry about. Ignis didn’t need his eyes to know that Prompto hasn’t been the same since they’d rescued him.

Prompto’s always been a bit reckless, but lately it’s curbed rather dangerously. He takes up so many hunts that he burns himself out, all of them so dangerous he never really makes it out unscathed. Downplaying injuries is nothing new for him, but he’s been sustaining much worse since the sun has gone down and supplies have run low, and either hides them or does a bare minimum patch-up, and then keeps on going like he’s perfectly healthy. He’s been distant, too. Prompto had always been there, clingy and physically affectionate with all three of them. And then they’d gone to Altissia, and afterward Prompto had practically glued himself to Ignis’ side. Now he’s gone more often than not, and Ignis will be the first to admit it’s had an impact on all of them.

Disappearing for an entire month without bothering to tell anyone where he’s going and when to expect him back is the last straw, it seems.

Ignis is so tired. He’s tired of Noct being gone, of the endless nights, of spending every waking moment worrying about Prompto. So he says, “What’s going on, Prompto?” because he needs to know. He needs to fix this.

“I don’t know,” Prompto whispers after nearly a minute of tense, unbearable quiet between them. Ignis can feel him shaking.

He reaches out, brushes his hand against Prompto’s arm under the blanket. Prompto shudders violently but leans a little closer to him. “You need to stop being so reckless. You’re going to get yourself killed. One day you won’t come back and I…” Ignis trails off. Prompto doesn’t say anything, just lets out a trembling breath when Ignis cups his cheek gently. “I can’t lose you, Prompto,” Ignis murmurs. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “I can’t lose you, because I love you more than you know, and I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

Prompto sniffles, leans forward to press himself against Ignis, head tucked under the older man’s chin. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I love you, too. I’m so sorry.”

Ignis feels tears wet his shirt. He wraps himself around Prompto, warm and safe and grounding, and presses his lips into blond hair. “It’s alright,” he says, even though it’s not. Nothing’s alright. Nothing will be alright until Noct’s back, and the Scourge is destroyed, and the sun rises once more. “It’s alright,” he says again anyways. He lets Prompto cry, and maybe he cries a little, too. They lay there for a long time, tangled together.

Prompto eventually quiets down, and Ignis says, “Just promise me you’ll be more careful. Please.”

“I will,” Prompto says.

“Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out. Together,” Ignis promises.

And maybe nothing’s alright, not right now, but with Prompto securely in his arms, Ignis knows it will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://k-ovic.tumblr.com/) and [twitter.](https://twitter.com/choco_bee_) Follow for updates, and DMs are always open, so feel free to chat :)


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